exhibition. The young folks were enthusiastic patrons of that little
theatre in Boston, where for more than a hundred afternoons and
evenings the "Professor," as he was called, showed off his four-footed
pupils. One forenoon he set apart for a free entertainment of as many
poor children as the house would hold, who went under the charge of
the truant officers and had an overwhelming good time.

There were sixteen of the animals, counting a donkey; grays, bays,
chestnut-colored beauties, and one who looked buff in the gaslight. In
recalling them, I cannot say that there was a white-footed one. What
consequence about white feet, you ask! Perhaps you know that they
make that of some account in the horse bazaars of the East. The Turks
say "two white fore feet are lucky; one white fore and hind foot are
unlucky;" and they have a rhyme that runs--

One white foot, buy a horse,
Two white feet, try a horse,
Three white feet, look well about him,
Four white feet, do without him.

[Illustration: THE CHAIR IS BROUGHT.]

They were all named. There was a Chevalier, a Prince, and a Pope; a
little pet, Miss Nellie, who looked as if she would be ready to drink
tea out of your saucer and kiss you after her fashion; Mustang, an
irrepressible and rude savage from the Rio Grande region; Brutus,
Cæsar, and Draco; a Broncho beauty; a Sprite; a stately stepping
Abdallah; Jim, who was a character; and a Bucephalus, after that
storied steed who would suffer no one to ride but his master, the
Great Alexander, but for him to mount, would kneel and wait.